You can call me Auntie. This past week, I had the honor of spending my days with my beautiful and smart 8 month old niece. The moment I met this little cherub, I fell head over worn-out converse, in glassy-eyed romance with her. She continues to be the cutest baby I have ever seen and after this week, I am convinced she is also a genius.
Hang in there while I brag? Okay, she has a great smile, wise eyes and occasionally, a condescending smirk. She holds her own spoon, bottle and books! She is studying English, Spanish and American Sign Language. She has a longer attention span than I do and I swear she called me “Auntie Lindsey”!
Now, some of you are thinking I am full of it-the same tacky substance I discovered during my recent diaper changing marathon. I don’t blame you for your doubts, your sighs or heavy eye-rolling, any more than I do myself, for being so utterly disgusting with Auntie Pride but please, don’t write me off just yet, I haven’t tossed out all rational thought with her pooh-pee Pampers.
Earlier today, I was engaged in important communications and serious discussions, including some difficult and insightful questions. Granted, it took place inside my own head with altered voices and distinctive personalities, but none the less, it was highly amusing to me. We… I wondered, “is it the genetic tie we share?”, “is it my own vanity?”, “has all that organic baby food and pink decor clouded my critical thinking?”, or worse “did she put a spell on me?”
Yes. Yes. Yes and Yes! …and I am loving every second of it. Forget about calling me on time to dinner and just call me Auntie!